material deliveries, batch numbers, and receiving signatures. He thought he was an auditor.
“He was a construction supervisor,” I replied.
—He was an employee.
—He was my husband.
Arturo barely smiled.
—And it was awkward.
Vicente took another step.
—I thought they had tampered with the scaffolding to kill me.
Arturo observed him.
—You always had an inflated opinion of your own importance.
Nobody spoke.
Vicente turned pale.
—It wasn’t for me.
Arturo did not respond.
—It was for Diego.
The silence became unbearable.
I felt Mia squeezing my neck.
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